


The Spa Break

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 18:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor treats Rose to a trip to a spa, but things take an unexpected turn the moment they arrive and have to fill out forms regarding their personal information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spa Break

It was a random Tuesday on the TARDIS when the Doctor, upon seeing a knackered Rose stumble into the console room after a night of restless sleep, decided to treat her to a spa break at a luxury hotel on the planet Belliso. She'd squealed in delight and turned her beautiful smile on him and he silently congratulated himself on his amazing idea. He set the coordinates and off they went.

When they arrived in the sleek hotel foyer, they were told they'd have to fill in a questionnaire. The Doctor gave it a cursory glance, but whined, "Oh, do I have to?"

The receptionist — tall and green and slightly scary-looking — nodded. "Yes, Sir. I'm afraid both of you must do so."

He huffed and gave Rose an apologetic look. "Come on then, let's get this over with."

"It won't take too long," Rose dismissed, patting his arm. "Stop moaning."

The Doctor huffed again and took the two forms and two pens over to the reception area, sitting down on a big, leather sofa. They both started filling in the forms in silence.

The Doctor's went as follows:

Name: The Doctor

Age: 901. Not that it's any of your business.

Species: Time Lord.

Home Planet: Gallifrey. It's gone now. Thanks for reminding me.

Occupation: Traveller of Time and Space.

Current Residence: The TARDIS.

Marital Status:

Likes: Rose Tyler, bananas, and little shops.

Dislikes: Daleks, pears, and hospitals. Oh, and cats — when you've been chased by one in a nun's wimple, it kind of puts you off them a bit.

Allergies: Aspirin. Boring people.

Favourite colour: TARDIS blue and pink and yellow.

Favourite music: That song Rose sings in the shower.

Favourite planet: Earth.

Any Other Vital Information: Oncoming Storm. Hates wrong-doers. No second chances kind of guy. You hurt Rose; no power on Earth or Other will stop me from finding you.

"Um, Doctor," Rose began, peering over his shoulder. "I don't think you were supposed to get so aggressive and angsty."

He sniffed haughtily. "I just thought that if someone else gets hold of this potentially damaging information regarding me — look, I had to write down that I'm allergic to aspirin! — then they should know that I'm completely capable of getting very, very angry."

"Yeah, but Doctor," she started to point out. "Now, if someone wanted to hurt me or whoever else, then they know they'd have to poison you with aspirin first."

His eyebrows drew together. "Ah." There was a pause. Rose grinned triumphantly. "Oh well!" he continued brightly. "I'm sure no one here will try to harm us!"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Now you've done it," she muttered. "Gone and jinxed our little holiday now, you have."

"Nah, course not," he protested. He reached for her questionnaire. "Let's have a look, then."

"No!" she exclaimed, snatching it away from him.

He looked aghast. "What? Why not?"

She shrugged. "Private, isn't it?"

"You read mine! Besides, I know everything about you," he protested.

"Fine!" she sighed, giving it to him. "If it means that much to you."

He smiled and read it aloud, "Name, Rose Tyler. Age, Twenty, Species, Human. Home planet, Earth. Current residence, the TARDIS. Occupation, Time Traveller — nice," he approved. Then his eyes widened. "Marital status, 'it's complicated'?" he demanded. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Rose's cheeks flushed a little. "Well, why do they wanna know that, eh? Don't want them trying to match-make me with someone, so I couldn't put single. But I'm not married, so I couldn't lie, either."

"Oh," he mumbled.

"What do you mean, 'oh?'" she asked, recognising his despondent tone instantly. "You left your one for that blank, anyway!"

"Well, yes," he said. "'Cos I wanted to see what you put first."

"What would it matter what I put?"

He glanced away, sniffing nonchalantly. "No reason."

"Doctor?" she prompted.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter," he insisted.

"Doctor," she said sternly. "Tell me now, 'cos I don't want you sulking all holiday."

"Fine!" he exclaimed in frustration. "I thought maybe — but — but, I was wrong, obviously, I - "

"Doctor, spit it out."

"Well. I'm not married. But I wouldn't exactly class myself as available, either," he said quickly.

"Okay, so what's that got to do with me?"

He stared at her, saw she didn't remotely get what he was trying to tell her, and promptly gave up trying to be elusive about it.

"I feel pretty attached to you, to be honest," he admitted, swallowing thickly but not letting himself break her gaze.

Her eyes widened and she let out a gasp of realisation. Everything seemed to go very quiet and still, because he could hear his own hearts beating rather fast.

"But..." she started, her throat dry. "But we're not a couple?" she said.

"We're not _not_ a couple either though, are we," he pointed out quietly.

Her breathing started to speed up. He noticed.

"Aren't we?"

"No," he answered definitively. After all, though they had never established what it meant with words, in essence they were constantly as close as two people could possibly get. Well. No, okay. Apart from that certain...er, activity...that would make them even closer. But he was really trying not to think about that right now.

"Oh," she whispered.

"Don't you..." He bit his lip nervously. "Don't you think so?"

"I...pretend not to think about it," she admitted. "I thought you didn't see anything...more than friendly about it."

"Rose, I - "

"Ahem," coughed the receptionist, standing as he was over them. "Have you completed the forms yet?"

The Doctor reluctantly tore his gaze away from Rose and looked at the man. Alien. Thing that wasn't Rose. "Not quite. Give us a few moments."

The alien rolled his eyes and turned around as requested.

The Doctor looked back at Rose, who was smiling. He sighed in relief. "You're smiling, that's good. Means you don't want to throw something at me."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," she replied, and both of them were startled at how seductive her voice came out. She hastily cleared her throat.

"And...what would that be?" he squeaked.

She blushed, but carried through, "Myself, obviously."

"Oh." He felt suddenly light-headed. "Rose," he complained.

"What?"

"I was trying not to think about that. You've undone all my hard work, now."

She smothered a giggle with her hand. "So, um...what are you gonna write on your form, for marital status?"

He looked down at it, then back at her, in contemplation. Then, he smiled that smile he smiled when he had a secret, and filled it in.

Rose frowned. "Tell me, then."

"Nope," he said, shaking his head, mischief written all over his face. When he saw her ready herself to pounce and snatch it from him to see, he quickly grabbed her form too, jumped up and practically ran to the front desk, handing them both in.

Rose folded her arms crossly. "That was unfair."

He turned around and leant against the counter, watching her with a grin. "Come here," he told her.

She reached the desk just as the receptionist said, "Well, it appears the Honeymoon Suite is available, Sir, so here is your keycard. Have a lovely stay with us, Sir, Madam."

Rose gaped at him. The Doctor chuckled beside her, and gripped her elbow gently, steering her towards the lifts. "Weelll, might as well utilise the very best of the facilities," he told her. "And the Honeymoon Suite happens to have a private Jacuzzi. Couldn't pass that up. I thought that, well, what the hell - we'll just have to pretend we've just got married," he shrugged, smirking at her wide eyes. He pressed the button for the lift. The doors opened instantly, and he stepped inside, pulling a stumbling Rose in after him.

Once the doors shut, he pressed the button for their floor and then leant down and kissed her forehead, trying to stop her frowning. "Don't worry," he whispered reassuringly into her hair. "I won't make you wear a wedding ring."

Rose burst into laughter and he pulled back, surprised, before realising that she was very swiftly pulling his head down, fusing their lips together. He stumbled forward, pressing her against the mirrored wall of the lift as he kissed back hard and passionately. Her fists bunched up in his shirt and she broke away to gasp in air, before tugging his tie loose to press soft kisses against his neck. His hands slid down the sides of her body, ending up on the backs of her thighs, and he hoisted her up, one leg, then the other, wrapping them around his waist and pushing against her, kissing her wherever he could reach.

He found a particularly delightful spot between her neck and shoulder, using his nose to push away the fabric of her top, his teeth to mark her skin with a possessive bite. Rose gasped, but in pleasure more than pain, and he swept over the mark with his tongue. Her hands slipped into his hair, running her fingers through it and tugging his mouth back to hers, loving the feel of his hands gripping her thighs firmly as he subtly moved against her.

Then, abruptly, they stop dead still, as the doors to the lift opened on their floor. Panting for breath, they moved their heads back a bit to stare at each other. "Well," he murmured, his voice all husky and rough and delicious.

"Yeah," she breathed out, giggling a bit in disbelief.

Another few seconds went by and then the Doctor made sure he had a good hold on her before carrying her out into the corridor. He felt for the keycard in his pocket, supporting her against him with one hand, and gave it to Rose, unable to focus his eyes to read it himself. "What number does it say?" he asked her, nuzzling her neck.

"821," she murmured, looking around them. Her eyes lit up. "That one there."

He set off towards the door she'd pointed at, and pressed her against it, taking the card from her again and swiping it through the handle of the door. It opened quickly but he didn't let her fall, shifting her more firmly into his embrace. "Right," he said next, swallowing thickly as the door swung shut behind them as they entered.

Rose gasped as she looked around the room. It was gorgeous. She looked back down at the Doctor's flushed face. "Not as gorgeous as you, though," she said aloud, without thinking.

He grinned at her as she blushed. "Really?" he said, his tone oddly hopeful.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah."

He chucked the keycard on the table and, kissing her again, made his way over to the rather large bed that sat imposingly in the centre of the room, dropping Rose onto it and then following her, climbing over her body.

"Nice mattress," Rose commented brightly.

He used to his hands to leverage himself above her, and bounced slightly. "Springy," he agreed with a grin.

Rose grabbed his tie and pulled him down for another kiss, and they rolled over in their passion, hurriedly unbuttoning each other's shirts. Giggling as they got tangled up in fabric in their haste, Rose gently pushed herself off of him and stood up.

"Right. Better idea: didn't you mention some sort of Jacuzzi?" she asked breathlessly.

The Doctor grinned. "I most certainly did!"

Later, both the Doctor and Rose pondered that the Honeymoon Suite thing had to be one of the very best ideas he'd ever had, even if they did feel a little guilty when a genuine newly married couple arrived the following day and were denied room at the inn.

So naturally, months later when they visited Belliso again, they maybe might've had a teeny tiny wedding to make things legal that time...


End file.
